


One Last Time

by rains_dawn



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Ambiguity, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, angsty smut, canonverse, only Kakashi isn’t married to sakura, they use bdsm as a coping mechanism, they've been through a lot okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rains_dawn/pseuds/rains_dawn
Summary: It was a good system—what they had. This coping mechanism that was fucked up in a sort of... beautiful way.And then he’s ripped from her grasp the second she turns a blind eye. All because of...politics.Sakura hates politics. But she hateshereven more.An arranged marriage au. Only Kakashi isn’t married to Sakura...
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 145





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is super super short. I just had it in my mind and couldn't get it out. The writing is meant to make it a bit ambiguous. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> **Edit 06/29/2020**
> 
> So I’m making this a full fledged arranged marriage au—but with a different perspective. It’s set in canonverse and Kakashi is Hokage. This first chapter (which was a one shot) will act as a sort of ‘prologue’. 
> 
> This is gonna get pretty angsty, I have a feeling —so buckle up!

**One month after the wedding**

She’s not sure why she’s here. What it was that pulled her from her original plan to head on home after a day at Ino’s. Why, in fact, she thought it pertinent to be in front of _this_ home—of all homes. She has no business being here. She can even say that she’s, perhaps, _forbidden_ from being here. 

  
  


Still—she continues to stand. With her hands behind her back as she rocks back and forth on her heels. She works her lips between her teeth as she continues to think obsessively. Think if she should bother being here. If she should bother knocking on the door. Every voice in her mind is screaming no but the heat in her belly whispers _yes._

  
  


On wobbly legs she feels herself stumble forward. Walking slowly to the landing and she somehow manages to bring herself to the door. Breath stuck in her throat as she does her best to will some confidence back in her. 

  
  


She raises a shaky hand to the door and knocks a few times; refraining from high tailing because she knows—she _knows_ that he’s aware of her presence on the other side of this door. 

  
  


She gulps down the bundle of nerves keeping her from breathing properly and steels herself at the sound of the lock turning. Her emerald eyes flutter up towards the figure. Almost scared to look him straight in the eye but she does anyway. 

  
  


There’s a...tenseness—in his stare. His black eyes have already managed to penetrate hers with a force that makes her want to look away. But she does her best to maintain eye contact as she listens to the harshness of his breathing. 

  
  


“You shouldn’t be here.” 

  
  


His voice is low and gravelly. Thick with what she thinks might be alcohol. She knows she shouldn’t be there. And he doesn’t say it in a way that makes him seem angered by her presence. He says it in an almost...pained way. A way that makes her want to break that threshold between them and embrace him. 

  
  


“I–I wasn’t intending to. I just…” she looks down, unable to find the words and she lets out a frustrated breath. “Is she here?” 

  
  


Kakashi pauses. And she knows he’s considering how to frame his answer—which leads her to believe that she’s _not_ there. 

  
  


Which, believe it or not, only complicates things further. 

  
  


“No. She’s in Iwa.” 

  
  


“How long?” 

  
  


“What does it _matter,_ Sakura?” 

  
  


She winces and he closes his eyes. A frustrated sigh escapes his nostrils just as she begins to turn. 

  
  


“No, wait—“ she hears him call out and before she knows it she feels his hand wrap around her upper arm. “I’m sorry.” 

  
  


“No, I...I shouldn’t be here.” 

  
  


She feels him pause once more—the both of them on his stoop and she can feel him tug at her arm. “Come inside. Please. We shouldn’t be seen together.” 

  
  


Sakura nods her head and shuffles on inside. She can feel him behind her, though he backs off and allows her to breeze past his kitchen. Maintaining a modest amount of space between them. 

  
  


She crosses her arms and sends her gaze to the ground. She can’t look at him—not really, anyway. Already feeling guilty for being there. She has no business being in his home. 

  
  


Well...not just _his_ home. 

  
  


She can’t help the small sneer that forms across her lips. Lifting her gaze only slightly to observe the small elements that make the house _hers_ as well. 

  
  


The little flowers that line the windowsills. The slightly effeminate throw pillows on the couch. The perfume-y smells coming from the unlit candles. 

  
  


It makes her fucking sick. 

  
  


They continue to be surrounded by silence. Neither of them is willing to speak and Sakura has half a mind to sprint out of the house. She nearly does, though not before she notices how he begins to slowly walk towards her. There’s an odd look in his eye. Different from their usual encounters. Though they usually don’t involve much more than ripping each other’s clothes off. 

  
  


She does her best to refrain from going down that train of thought. Instead—allowing her eyes to meet his as he continues to study her carefully. 

  
  


“Why are you here?” 

  
  


Her heart stills and mouth hangs open slightly as she tries to find the words but just _can’t._ She watches as he comes closer. Hands now in his pockets as his voice grows deeper. 

  
  


“ _Why,”_ he repeats, “are you here, Sakura?” 

  
  


She can feel herself being backed into a wall. Both literally and figuratively. She knows she has to answer. Knows she can’t just leave and say it’s nothing. Because it’s not _nothing._ It’s something—something she can’t have. Can’t _ever_ have. And for some reason, on that particular night, she felt herself needing it more than ever. 

  
  


Because she misses him. She wants him. She _loves_ him—

  
  


But she would never _tell_ him. 

  
  


Her back hits the wall and her eyes flutter closed. She can feel the heat of his body as he comes closer. And it only reinforces the fact that he wants the same thing. Even though they shouldn’t. 

  
  


Conscience be damned. 

  
  


Her eyes open to meet his and she feels her hands snake up his chest. Watching as his eyes _never_ waver from hers. She tilts her head up and feels his breath against her lips. 

  
  


“Just,” she breathes, “one last time.” 

  
  


His forehead falls against hers and she can feel his breathing become more erratic—more _desperate_ as her nails begin to dig into his shirt. 

  
  


“I just…” she repeats, feeling his body press against hers and she can feel that he’s trying _so hard_ to resist and pull away but with every breath and tug and soft moan she feels the temptation almost _beg_ for reprieve. It’s maddening. It’s utterly foolish. It’s _wrong._

  
  


But she doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t stop him when his lips crash against hers. When his hands meet her ass to lift her higher. When his tongue forces itself inside her mouth to seek possession anywhere it can. 

  
  


Her hands tangle into his hair and she tugs— _hard._ Earning a growl from him as he slams her back against the wall once more.

  
  


_Yes,_ she thinks as she feels his fingers dig into the skin of her asscheeks. The pained but pleasured sounds emanating from his throat at her forceful tugging. 

  
  


This is what they couldn’t escape from. _This._ This carnal energy pent up from countless missions. From the blood and carnage and _rage_ that’s been building in their bodies for years and years. Normal civilians didn’t understand. They would _never_ understand. Not in the way Kakashi did. 

  
  


“More. _More.”_ she all but begs and feels as he rips her from the wall—trudging down to his bedroom and he kicks open the door only to toss her onto his bed. 

  
  


She doesn’t have much time to recover before he’s on her again. Ripping her clothes from her body. Biting and licking anywhere he can. Anywhere he _hasn’t_ yet. Because her whole body is _covered._ Covered by marks from _him._

  
  


She scratches and claws. Ripping every article of clothing from his body until they’re both naked with his hardness rubbing against her bare heat. Her slick covers his length and it’s not long before she feels him slipping inside her. 

  
  


He lets out a guttural moan. A moan that sounds as if he had been craving this for _so long_. Had gone far too long without her and she can’t help but feel the same. Their last time together was spent against a bathroom wall in a seedy bar when they had no other option and couldn’t chance being seen. 

  
  


She’s a terrible person—she knows this. And she knows Kakashi probably feels the same about himself. Lying to literally _every_ person important to them. But their selfishness wins. And it wins _so easily._

  
  


Kakashi splits her legs wide open and continues to give her deep strokes. His hand travels to her neck and _squeezes_ as his mouth remains at her ear. 

  
  


He whispers _obscenities_ as he continues to fuck her. With the combination of her constricted airways, his face in her neck and the powerful snap of his hips— she can’t help the tears of sheer pleasure that all but cascade down her cheeks. 

  
  


“You only come...when _I_ let you.” he growls into her ear and she whimpers her response. 

  
  


She’s been on the edge for the past half hour—and he’s grown to know when she’s close. He’ll take full advantage, stilling his hips or burying himself to the hilt when he can feel the beginnings of her walls contracting. He’ll stop and listen to her cries for reprieve but won’t grant her _any._

  
  


And he knows—he _knows_ she likes it that way. That there’s no other way she could possibly like it. Or take it.

  
  


They remain like that for a good few minutes. With him buried so deep and his hand still wrapped around her neck. And she can tell that he’s on the edge. What with his shaky breath against her ear and build up of sweat that lines his forehead and covers his chest. He continues to murmur in her ear. Tease her. Speak fowl words to her that send jolts of electricity down her spine. 

  
  


His pulsing length throbs within her and she can barely hold back from writhing herself. And she’s hardly prepared for when he grunts and begins to suddenly move again. Slamming into her as if he’s chasing something and all she can hear is _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ being groaned into her ear. 

  
  


She screams as she feels her orgasm consume her. _Claim_ her and subdue her as his hardness began to twitch incessantly inside her. She can feel him fill her with every slap of his hips. Growing more messy and tired as he lets up from his hold on her neck and removes his mouth from her ear. 

  
  


Her neck is red. She knows this because he begins to kiss all along it. Urging her to extend and allow him to tend to her wounds. 

  
  


She wraps her arms around his neck, allowing him to wedge himself next to her as his face remains buried at her neck. She’s not sure why she’s staying. Or how long she will. Or what any of this even means. The only thing she knows is—

  
  


She can never get enough. And she fears this won’t be the last time. 

  
  


Because it never really is. 


	2. the hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura reminisces on she and Kakashi's first time—which only causes more hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I've made this story into a multi-chap. I sort of had a feeling this would happen back when I first wrote this. And I honestly have such a hard-on for angst that I just can't _not_ do it.
> 
> This chapter is a little short. I'm sorry for that. It's because I can't really say where this is going yet. I honestly have no idea. There will be frequent flashbacks. I'm betting almost every chapter will have one—at least in the beginning installments. Just to fill in some gaps. 
> 
> Also, to avoid any underage content—I've made it so Sakura is 19 which puts Kakashi at 33. I think that's close enough to the real time-line to avoid the haters coming at me for sticking with the real thing. Making her 16 and...yeah. So.
> 
> Anyway, enough of my rambling.

The worst part is she can’t tell anybody. 

  
  


She’s invited to the wedding. Because  _ of course _ she is. Because there was no way anyone could think that she and her sensei are somewhat involved.  _ Were  _ somewhat involved. 

  
  


She remembers when he called it. As she sits on the stoop outside her front door with the invitation in her hands. Her fingers dig into the expensive parchment as she stares blankly at it. She can’t seem to shake the tone of his voice which was filled with sorrow and regret. It hurt to hear. And it hurts to remember. 

  
  


_ This needs to stop. I’m calling it.  _

  
  


And it was the slight crack in his voice when he said  _ stop  _ that made her break down in front of him. It’s the first time she ever cried. Ever showed him that she did, in fact, care somewhat about the time they spent together. Even if it was just…fucking. To put it bluntly. 

  
  


She’ll never admit that it was anything more than that. 

  
  


But when the layers slowly begin to peel back...it really  _ was  _ more than just fucking. It had grown to near necessity—how badly she needed him.  _ Needs  _ him. How badly he needs  _ her.  _ So at its core, it wasn’t just sex. It was an understanding of just what it was that  _ they  _ needed. That what they can just as easily get from others would and will  _ never _ be enough. That thought alone was exciting to her. That her sensei, and her sensei alone, was the only one who could fuck her the way she needed. The carnal, primal, completely  _ animalistic  _ way that, in their eyes, was the only way. 

  
  


She needed it to hurt. She needed to be on the brink of tears and being ripped apart. She needed him to humiliate, mark and punish her. Even if there was no reason for it. 

  
  


And even now, as she continues to just  _ sit _ —unable to think of much else…

  
  


She can’t help but realize she needs it most  _ right now.  _

* * *

  
  
  


_ It’s a mission like any other. Retrieve the contact and slip out unnoticed. Without a sound. Not even a pin-drop. And get the  _ **_hell_ ** _ out of  _ **_there._ **

  
  


_ It’s the adrenaline that drives her. That never seems to leave. That always seems to have her on edge and it’s not long after they deliver the asset that she’s in her tent.  _

  
  


_ She’s completely unaware if he can hear her. Hear her whimpers to do everything in her power to make it hurt just a little more. Pinching her nipples. Edging herself to orgasm but not. Giving herself a headache by grinding her teeth. It’s always the same.  _

  
  


_ But the shuffling outside her tent—the smell of agitation and burnt wood fills her as the zipper to her tent is wrenched downward to reveal Sakura in her naked glory. The man hovering over her has a dark and predatory look in his eyes. It’s a mix of anguish and excitement and it’s then— _ **_then_ ** _ that she realizes that yes— _

  
  


_ Tonight is different.  _

  
  


_ A low rumble escapes his throat as she ceases her movements. Slowly propping herself up on her elbows as her heart absolutely pounds in her chest. She’s made it no secret that in her seven years of knowing him—Kakashi-sensei has been everything she’s ever craved and wanted. At least to him. And in those seven years she’s come to find... she thinks the feelings are mutual.  _

  
  


_ And tonight has been no exception.  _

  
  


_ She sensed it...that mission. As they were creeping along the outside of the building. How  _ **_close_ ** _ they had to be. At one point his body had been caged over hers. And she couldn’t help but feel her nipples pucker at the contact. She knew he could tell. Because Kakashi picks up on damn near anything.  _

  
  


_ And that night she knew...she knew something was stirring deep inside him.  _

  
  


_ Now left to wonder, all she can do is stay frozen as he continues to loom over her. Slowly bringing himself to a kneel, propped on one knee. _

  
  


_ “Keep going.” he commands and her breath stills in her throat.  _

  
  


_ “What—“  _

  
  


_ “Don’t  _ **_stop_ ** _.” he grits through his teeth and she can feel her hand move on its own—as if his voice has her under a trance.  _

  
  


_ She can feel the slick from her heat as she swirls the tips of her fingers around it. Watching as he just continues to stare and she’s powerless to do or say much else. He’s in a trance of sorts, as is she. And she can see as his nostrils flare—taking in her scent and she doesn’t miss as his eyes slip closed.  _

  
  


_ A whimper escapes her lips and his eyes snap back open. He leans forward with a curious look on his face. “Does it feel good?”  _

  
  


_ Her brow wrinkles just the slightest. “I...yes.” she struggles and he tilts his head.  _

  
  


_ “It does?”  _

  
  


_ His voice is challenging and it’s then that she realizes what he’s really asking. What he’s really trying to get out of her and it’s not long before the  _ **_need_ ** _ in her belly travels up her throat and through her mouth to whimper a pained, “No.”  _

  
  


_ “Why.” he states simply.  _

  
  


_ “N—Not...enough.” she ground out as her body writhes and wiggles. The need to feel more consuming her as he just continues to watch.  _

  
  


_ “Tell me what you need.”  _

  
  


_ “I...I need it to,” she’s unsure she wants to finish that thought. To tell him that she needs pain. That she needs punishment—even if it’s undeserved. She needs to feel more than what her fingers can so lousily scrounge up which is the weakest of orgasms. She needs someone who understands. Someone who knows the pain like she does. Who embraces it and craves it every night because she just  _ **_can’t_ ** _ seem to make it— _

  
  


_ “ _ **_Hurt_ ** _.” _

  
  


_ He doesn’t say anything for a long while. And she wonders if she should stop what she’s doing. Stop because he’s completely and utterly disgusted by what she’s just admitted to him. The sick need she’s come to realize she has and she can’t help but feel tears well up in her eyes at the humiliation. What’s worse is she can’t blame him. So she pulls her hand up and begins to scoot herself away from him but the feel of his hand shooting out to wrap around her ankle stills her.  _

  
  


_ She dares to look up—finding that his eyes are dark and menacing and he looks about ready to attack.  _

  
  


_ And he does.  _

  
  


_ In an instant her legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s almost draped over her. His one hand is beside her head while he tears his glove off the other with his teeth. He hikes her legs up a bit more and grabs her breast.  _ **_Hard._ ** _ Pinching her nipple as he does so.  _

  
  


_ She yelps and lets out a strained but pleasurable moan that he all but relishes in. He opens his mouth—as if he’s mimicking her moans and presses his rock-hard erection against her.  _

  
  


_ “Good.  _ **_Good_ ** _.” he bites out as his hips begin to circle hers. He continues to massage and pinch her nipple as she arches her back.  _

  
  


_ She can tell by the sound of his harsh breath and low grunts that he needs something too. That he can’t just be giving her what she needs and in an instant her hands are flying to the button and zipper of his pants. His eyes shoot to hers in a slightly confused way and he asks, “Have you…?” which she replies, “Yes,” quickly and he nods his head followed by a, “Are you—” and she responds with another, more profound, “ _ **_Yes_ ** _.” He grounds out a  _ **_fuck_ ** _ while pulling out his cock and her eyes widen at the sight.  _

  
  


_ He’s decent in size. Bigger than average but not the biggest she’s had. Though something tells her he knows how to use it in the way he just eases himself in at a slight angle that stretches her in the most delicious way. He senses her willingness to open and she yelps when he slams himself inside—deciding not to waste any time.  _

  
  


_ He spread her legs wide and began to give her long and deep strokes. Bottoming out with every thrust and her mouth remains wide open—her voice scratchy from the shrills that leave her lips. She feels his hand travel up her stomach, past her breasts and to her throat. Her neck extends as his fingers wrap around it and he  _ **_squeezes._ ** _ She can’t quite believe the sound that escapes her. A sort of guttural and blissful sound that’s completely unfamiliar to her. She looks to him and finds a satisfied smile tug at his lips. Like he’s found what he’s been looking for too. And it’s not long before she just gives in.  _

  
  


_ He’s straight fucking her now. Her  _ **_sensei_ ** _ is fucking his student. With powerful snaps and long drives all while his hand is wrapped around her neck. His head dives for her ear and she bites her lip at the tears that have since filled her eyes.  _

  
  


_ “Is this what you needed?” he asks in a dark and teasing way and she can’t help the cry that escapes her. “Needed someone to make it  _ **_hurt_ ** _.” he emphasizes with a strong thrust of his hips. He stays there and pulls his hand away from her throat, allowing his mouth to replace it instead. He buries his face into her shoulder and bits down hard. Drawing blood for sure and a pained moan leaves her lips.  _

  
  


_ “Yes.” she manages to get out as he resumes his thrusts—licking at her shoulder as he does so. She realizes then that he’s marked her. And she has a feeling it’ll be the first of many.  _

  
  


_ She gasps when he flips her—now finding herself on her hands and knees. He wastes no time in driving himself back inside, with one hand on her ass and the other with a handful of her hair. Back arched and allowing him to ride her cunt, she gives into the euphoric mix of pain and pleasure that she honestly never thought she’d ever experience. His fingers dig into her ass. Aiding him in his deep strokes as he tugs her hair harder.  _

  
  


_ She can’t believe this is happening as a wide and open mouthed smile spreads across her face. Almost laughing as he continues to give her what she knows is the best fucking of her life. She can’t help it as she unravels around him. Her orgasm rips through her unnoticed and he just continues. Doesn’t stop—doesn’t even  _ **_hesitate_ ** _ as he continues with the fervent slapping of his hips. And she’s loving every painful yet blissful moment of it.  _

  
  


_ She knows it’s wrong. She knows that  _ **_he_ ** _ knows it’s wrong. Yet she has a strange feeling not even that will stop them.  _

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


She tries to block out the memories. And she fails every time. 

  
  


Every  _ damn  _ time. Which ends with her in her bed alone. Because she knows she can’t go to him. Not anymore. Though she could.  _ Oh,  _ she knows she could. And that’s because she’s thought about it. Shamelessly so. And it makes the hairs on her arms stand on end when she does. Half in remorse and half in excitement because that’s how  _ fucked  _ her mind is. 

  
  


She can’t get over him. As much as it pains her to admit. She’s gone through the stages of loss only to find that he’s the only one she can go to. And she hates herself every day for it. 

  
  


It’s not  _ her _ fault. Really, it isn’t. Which is what hurts the most. Sakura’s not a monster. At least, she hopes she isn’t. And she’s unsure whether it’s love this woman has for him or just a matter of convenience but…

  
  


The way she looks at him. With her bright green eyes—not dissimilar to hers. And her shiny black hair. She really is a gorgeous woman. 

  
  


And it makes Sakura absolutely sick. 

  
  


She can never tell what he thinks of it. And she’s never brought herself to ask. All she has is the memory of him telling her. Telling her they shared has to stop before anything gets out of hand. She knows this, obviously, but it doesn’t mean it hurt any less. 

  
  


And she’s now left to wonder if he feels the same anguish. After all…

  
  


It’s not like he’s the one forced to see them. Watch them walk hand in hand down every damn street in Konoha. Watch as the shop patrons and owners came to greet them and share their well wishes of a long and fruitful marriage. She remembers hearing someone bring up the subject of  _ children  _ and it was then that she couldn’t take it anymore. 

  
  


And it was also then that she realized she was in love with him. 

  
  


As crazy as it sounds, and even  _ crazier  _ to explain—she’s head over heels in love with him. And she knows now she can’t have him. Destiny made it so they could  _ never  _ be together. Not since he became Hokage. That... _ that  _ was the nail in the coffin for them. 

  
  


Neither of them knew this would come from his ascension. The worst, she thought, was it’d be harder for them to, in fact, sneak into one another’s homes in the late hours of the night. What with all the work he was expected to undertake. That she could understand.  _ That  _ she could deal with. 

  
  


But this…

  
  


Tears flood her eyes as she rips the invitation in half. She can’t imagine he was the one to send it. She can’t imagine he’d do something like that after the remorse she could sense in his voice when he told her it was over. Nonetheless…

  
  


She lifts herself from her stoop and chances a glance at the moon—now high in the sky and she can’t help but wonder...wonder if he’s looking and overwhelmed with the same things too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Drop a comment and let me know what you think if you'd be so kind! I got, uh, a bit carried away with this one. I have to admit I deleted half of the smutty bit but then wrote it back in again. Hah!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, if you'd be so kind!


End file.
